A Ball that can Only be Dreamt Of
by QuizzicallyQuixotic
Summary: Kandin Fineeye takes in an injured tuxedo cat and is surprised to find that she begins to see some cats as more than just regular cats. "Have you never seen a Jellicle cat?"


_Bright green eyes shine._

_Hair black as night is pulled into a tight bun,_

_Decorated with pearls._

_She inhales sharply_

_And extends a pale arm._

_Toes pointed outward,_

_Tapping the ground._

_As orchestra's hymn crescendos_

_The dance at last begins._

"You should try dancing."

She tells him that she's much too old, that most girls start dancing when they're four.

"You're young. You could learn."

-*-

The vet stared at me, eyebrows raised like I was just a crazy kid. Lifting a hand, I gently scratched the little tuxedo cat behind the ear. For a moment it stared blankly up at me, but soon began licking at the wound on its back leg.

"This cat was hit by a train?" The vet asked, and for the _twentieth _time, I had to retell the story.

"I _thought_ it was. I mean.. I was buying a ticket and I saw this little guy trying to run across the tracks. I didn't think he made it.. I mean.. I thought I saw him go _flying_. So I ran over to see if he was okay, or dead, or whatever. But besides that big scrape on his leg, he looks.. _fine._

The vet rubbed a hand across his balding head. Making an odd sucking noise with his lips, he took up the cat's injured paw in one hand, gingerly massaging it.

"No broken bones- he's fine. I'll prescribe some antibiotics and painkillers and clean this up for you- showing you how to take care of the wound yourself, of course. This little fellow should be up on his feet and running across train tracks again in no time."

I held my hands up, shaking my head quickly.

"That all sounds expensive. I mean, he's a cute cat, but he's a stray tom I happened across. I don't have the money for any of that stuff.. a-and I work, I don't have time to take care of anything, let alone a cat!"

"So you'd abandon an injured cat?"

"I-I didn't say that!"

"So I should fill out the prescription for…? What will you name him? Lucky? Lucky's a cute name, you know."

My hands were waving more frantically as I tried to explain to the increasingly more persistent vet that I couldn't afford a pet. The vet, though sweaty, was disturbingly calm at my frenzied behavior, and the cat was completely indifferent. It was then, thankfully, that the large haired secretary knocked on the door and announced a phone call.

"If you'll excuse me. I'll bring dressings for his wound when I come back. Keep thinking up names!" And with that the vet left me alone with my new.. pet.

"Oh, God!" Flinging my hands in the air and slapping them against the nearest wall, I groaned. Medicine cost money, cat food cost money, litter and litter boxes cost money, cat toys cost money and- "Does my apartment even allow cats?! For God's sakes!" For a moment, I stopped slapping my hands against the wall opting instead to use my forehead.

"Lucky. Me. I guess. Lucky. Lucky."

_"If you call me 'Lucky', I might have to spit up a hairball into your shoes."_

"Relax, I wasn't going to call you Lucky. Not only is it taboo, but it's the most ridiculous na-" Before thinking about where the voice had come from, I had begun to answer. About the middle of my reply, after I had thought for a brief second, my back tensed. My words caught in my throat, and I quickly stopped using my forehead to abuse the wall.

Not turning around to look for the voice's source, I rolled my shoulders upwards and edged closer to the wall. This may sound insane, but even thinking I might have been hearing voices, I kept talking.

"What would you like to be called?"

_"My name."_

"What's your," here, I winced cocking my head slightly toward the examination table. "Your name?"

The moment I received an answer, I spun on my heel to face the disembodied voice. This is the craziest part- when I turned 'round, I swear for just a fraction of a second, there was a boy on the examination table in place of the cat.

I quickly stepped backwards into the wall, hitting it hard. With an 'oomph!' I slid down, covering my eyes with my hands.

But when I had gathered the courage to peek out again, there was only a tiny tuxedo cat, staring curiously down at me from the examination table.

-*-

"And this," I dropped my shopping bags upon the floor, readjusting the cat to the now empty space in my arm, and extending a hand to my small, apartment version of a living room/kitchen/bedroom combo. "Is.. home. I guess."

Carefully, I placed the cat upon my mattress bed, returning to my shopping bags. With a groan, I pulled expensive item after expensive item out of the plastic bags. _Happy Shopping! _was the slogan printed upon them. And it was right, because I _certainly_ was _happy_ buying all that expensive cat stuff.

Oh, and yes, that was sarcasm.

Dismissing my earlier crazy moment as brain damage from head trauma, I had gone ahead and purchased the cat's medicine. However, that may have been from the head trauma as well.

"Three weeks pay, Cat. Three weeks." Producing the pill bottles from my coat pocket, I rattled them in the cat's direction. "So you'd better eat all your food and take all your medicine. Starving cats in Africa would be happy to have this.. KittyKibble.. stuff." Scratching my head, I looked around. "What'll you take these pills with, Cat? Milk? I think I have some of that."

Slipping the bottles back into my pocket, I walked over to my little refrigerator. Sure enough, there was milk inside, but little else. Unfortunately, I could find no bowls, and so I was left staring dimly about the room wondering what to pour the milk into.

_"Why do you want to ruin perfectly good milk with those things?"_

The voice was back. I turned my head slowly toward my mattress.

The boy had replaced the cat again too, and in my surprise I dropped the milk onto the floor. The jug busted, spilling milk all over the floor.

The boy did not move, just sat upon my mattress. He did look a little like a cat, dressed in a pretty tuxedo with a white face and whiskers. He even had cat ears.. and a cat tail.

Alright, he looked a lot like a cat- he _was_ a cat.

"Mr. Mistoffelees," I whispered, vaguely aware of the cold liquid spreading upon my floor.

_"How can you hear me?"_ he asked, quickly scratching at his ear. "_Or see more than a cat?"_

"W-what are you?"

_"What?" _He looked as confused as I felt, but he smiled at me, closing his eyes slowly and then opening them again. "_Have you never seen a Jellicle cat?"_

And I honestly couldn't say that I had.


End file.
